Old Soul
by quantumparadigm
Summary: <html><head></head>Commander Olivia Shepard ruminates on the choices forced upon her as she fights with herself over the impending arrival of the reapers. Ultimately, her faith in someone she trusts helps her to make the right decision.</html>


**Old ****Soul**

The readout flashed a warning message: projected radius of explosion exceeds system boundaries. Three-hundred thousand souls. The number taunted her, blinking on the screen.

None of them knew their lives were about to extinguished in the blink of an eye. Perhaps some would look up just in time to see the white-hot flash signifying the end of their brief existence before their flesh was obliterated by the massive energy shock-wave. Tired rationalizations of "they're just batarians" rang hollow in her own ears. When people needed help, the species had never mattered. The definition of an entire species couldn't be based on a singular moment in history.

Three-hundred thousand souls rested on her conscience, begging to be heard. To be recognized. To live.

Shades of grey. Ambiguity. A white-wash of morality. The seconds took an eternity to click as her hand hovered above the button. Time had frozen. The dull thud of her heartbeat reverberated throughout her body, silencing the chaos of the burning facilities around her. The counter signifying the arrival ticked down.

It was just her and the button - plus three-hundred thousand people. Their imagined voices were louder than the Cipher, more disturbing than the vision provided by the beacon. They tormented her, tugging at the frayed edges of her mind. She glanced at the arrival indicator again, licking her lips. A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead as another second ticked down. Her heart beat once more.

"_Shepard__," _a voice whispered her name. It was familiar yet foreign. She glanced around the room, looking for the source - but she was alone. Was it Object Rho? No, this voice sounded... warm.

There was always a price to be paid. Prior experience had proven that to her time again. Saving the Council had cost thousands of human lives. But she'd been resolute with her decision despite the implications. She'd known the cost and paid it anyway. Vigil's warning had been at the forefront of her mind: _our __leaders __dead __before __we __knew __what __was __happening__._ The Council was a symbol of stability; with the stakes raised as high as they could go, she'd been willing to sacrifice human lives to keep them safe.

The names of the Alliance vessels were burned in her memory. She'd do it again if she had to. That didn't stop it from hurting.

Another beat, another second.

There were the more personal decisions with ramifications that had shattered her into oblivion. Horizon. She'd managed to glue herself back together, but the fragmented pieces were jagged, sharp. Even after all this time, the shards still managed to cut into her, reopening a wound that would never heal. It was unbelievable that one person managed to wiggle his way in so thoroughly that her conscience had adopted his voice, overriding her own. What would he do? She shook her head ever so slightly.

Words pounded against her skull. The betrayal written across his face, whether imagined or real, was something she'd never forget. It was too vivid, too searing. But she'd made a choice that day. She let him walk away from her. No calls, no desperate pleas. Love more unbearable and brighter than anything she'd ever experienced tearing at her heart, pleading with her to go after him. She'd sacrificed the best thing that had ever happened to her to stop the Collectors.

Another second ticked down. Time was a luxury she didn't have.

Still she hesitated. So many decisions, so many lives. She'd sacrificed so much up to this point - and still it wasn't enough. Life seemed to demand ever more from her. More than she ever thought she'd give. More than she could give and still remain sane. Life had broken her beyond repair, yet still she fought on. She'd never give up, never stand down. She was the champion the galaxy needed. But in order to do it, she had to be willing to sacrifice everything. She couldn't be ruthless; _his_ voice always made sure of that. He kept her in check. Dark brown eyes with soft, reassuring features. He had the patience of a stone.

Time was running out.

"_You __need __to __do __this__, __Shepard__," _the voice whispered in her ear.

She looked around the room again, but she was still alone. She turned back to the console in front of her, hair swishing around her shoulders. Sweat beaded on her brow.

"_Shepard__, __we _need _you __to __do __this__," _the voice murmured insistently.

"I know," she replied.

Her hand tingled as she moved it over the flashing button that would bring annihilation to a thriving species. The countdown ticked another second. The power at her fingertips overwhelmed her. She'd never asked for this. All she'd ever wanted was to protect the innocents, to stop what had happened to her family from happening to others. She'd never have imagined that life would bring her here. A dark and gritty place where morality was often obscured, where the right decision felt like the wrong one.

"Can a soul survive the death of so many?" she asked the voice.

Silence. She felt so old. The decisions she'd made over the years weighed down on her limbs. More than anything, she wanted to rest. To not have to fight. Her soul had aged beyond the scope of what it should have. She'd done so much, seen so much in 30 years. So much had happened to her; she couldn't keep up.

"Can I?" she whispered, afraid to hear the answer. Afraid she already knew.

"_Yes__,"_ the voice answered, and this time, she recognized it. His hand appeared next to hers and she tilted her face to look into his eyes. Dark, warm and inviting. And so full of trust. _"__You __can__,"_ he said, and she believed him. It ripped her apart, but she put her faith in his hands.

His hand pressed firmly down on hers and she willed herself to feel three-hundred thousand souls crying out in horror as she pushed the button.


End file.
